


Saving a Life

by EmeraldChick96



Category: Fifty Shades of Grey (Movies)
Genre: Elena's a Bitch, F/M, Read the books but know movies better
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-28
Updated: 2020-08-28
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:21:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 10
Words: 11,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26158732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmeraldChick96/pseuds/EmeraldChick96
Summary: After the birthday party, Christian and Ana plan their new life together, and how to keep Elena out of it. But she is a stubborn bitch, and will not leave without a fight. When her antics push Grey to his very limits, and Christian realizes he is in over his head if he wants to take Elena down. Slowly Christian has to come to terms with what happened to him as a submissive for Elena for twelve years, what lead him to that point, and he finally admits, he didn't want it. Loosing his power weighs on Christians mind, and he begins to wonder, can he ever take that part of himself back from Elena?
Relationships: Christian Grey/Anastasia Steele
Comments: 1
Kudos: 23





	1. Chapter 1

Saving a Life

Chapter 1 Telling the Truth

After the fireworks, everyone went home, and the Grey family went inside with me and Kate.

“God, I need a drink,” said Grace.

“I want one too,” I said.

“Will, white wine work?” asked Grace.

“Yep,” I said.

She poured me a glass of Louis Latour white wine and we clinked glasses. 

“Everyone is gone,” said Elliot, coming in. “I can’t find Elena anywhere. It is not like her to leave the party without saying goodbye.”

Raw heated anger flared from my beating heart coursing through my veins. “She said goodbye to Christian,” I blurted out.

Grace let out a broken sob.

“Mom, please,” begged Christian.

I put the glass down, and grabbed her hand. “Grace,” I said, “I am so sorry. I just hear her name and I see red. I should not have said that. Please forgive me.”

“Oh, it’s not that,” said Grace, sobbing.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Mia leave the room.

“I hate her, too,” said Grace. “I just can’t believe that I let it happen.”

“Mom,” Christian choked out. He reached for her hand, and she grabbed it. “I told you, it was years ago and I am fine.”

My heart clenched. No you’re not Christian.

“No baby. Your not.”

Mia returned with two boxes of tissues. “I grabbed these from the bathroom. I did not think you want to use paper towels,” she said, putting one on the counter and handing the rest to Grace.

“Thank you, Mia.”  
“Someone want to tell me what the hell is going on?” yelled Elliot.

I turned around and stared at Kate. “Katherine Anges Kavanagh, you are about to be told a family secret. The only reason why I am telling you is because Elliot will probably just tell you anyway. Swear to me something that you will keep this private.”

“The jewelry box,” she said.

I turn to Christian and said, “Kate has a jewelry box she got when her grandmother passed away. It is made of crystal with gold trim. It is the most expensive thing she owns, and it is the highest thing she can swear on.”

Christian looked up at me with his copper eyes and a small smile formed on his lips. Slowly he nodded, Kate could stay.

I breathed a sigh of relief. I grabbed his hand, and turned back to the family. “We asked Elana to leave because-” Christian squeezed my hand.

“I need to do this,” said Christian.

I looked in his eyes and saw terrible pain, but also determination. 

“Okay,” I said softly.

“Okay,” he said. “I was adopted,” he told Kate. “My birth mom was a drug addict who died when I was four, and the police found me and took to the hospital, where I met Grace who eventually adopted me. I was in some kind of shock, I guess when I was little. I did not talk much, I was really polite, I did what I was told and I played the piano. When I was about thirteen, fourteen-ish that shock turned to anger. I got into fights at school, I drank a lot, I partied, I went on joy rides, I was out of control. My parents took me to shrinks, and punished me, but I did not respond to anything. 

“Then one day, I was grounded for sneaking out, and my mom’s friend, Elana, said I needed to come over and wash her windows for punishment from my dad. I was done and ready to go home and she made me some lemonade for doing a good job. We started talking, and she kissed me. It scared me and confused me, but before I could get the hell out of there, she grabbed my hand, and said she could explain.

“She said that I was acting out was because I needed a sexual release, and she could help me, but it had to be our secret. We fucked, and I went home. I did everything I could to understand it, I played video games, played piano, studied, kept my head down, but nothing fixed it. She called me the next Friday, and told me to come to her house alone. She told me to get naked and kneel before her. She said she was my dominant and I was the submissive, and the rest is history.”

No one spoke. I knew I hated Elena but this was raw fire hatred. She deliberately got him alone and she made it look like she was saving him. I wanted to hurt her I was so mad. I looked around the room. Grace was crying, and Carrick had his arms around her. But, I looked into his eyes and he looked like he had aged ten years. Mia was sitting at the breakfast bar, biting her lip, buried in her phone, but I could tell she was trying not to cry as well. Elliot was standing by the doorway leading into the rest of the house, his carefree attitude was gone, and in its place horror. Kate was standing next to him, for once in her life looking out of place and off balance. She kept glancing from Elliot, to Christian, to me, as if trying to figure out what to say. Then, a thought crossed her mind, as she got a malicious grin.

“I will need this bitches’ last name so I torture the right person,” she said.

Christian laughed, but I saw tears in his eyes. “I don’t want to start a war. She has pictures that can take my company down and ruin our family’s reputation, including Ana’s.”

“That’s blackmail!” said Elliot.

Christian nodded. “I know. I was fifteen. I am so sorry.”

“What are you sorry for?”

“I wanted it. I went every chance I got. I did not stop it.”

“Am I the only one who took Sex-Ed in high school?” said Mia. “First off, there is no way you consented because you had no idea what you were doing. Second off, she was an adult and you were a minor. Thirdly, she used your feelings towards her to control you and keep you from telling your family, an aspect of abuse. Fourthly, you are clearly traumatized by it. So next time you say you wanted it, or agreed to it, or it wasn’t her fault, I am gonna smack you upside the head.”

Christian smiled.

“Have you told anyone outside this room?” asked Grace.

“Flynn knows.”

“What did he say?”

“He said it was rape. He told me to do everything from suing her, to put a restraining order on her, to break off the business with her.”

“So,” said Elliot, “Your shrink said it was rape, your girlfriend said it was rape, and you hung out with her because your a dumbass?”

“I thought I owed her,” he whispered.

“Yeah,” I said. “I don’t get that. Walk me through that.”

“I was so wild, before we started our ‘situation’. I calmed down afterwards, and everyone was so happy. I figured that she saved my life.”

“Bull shit,” said Elliot.

“I heartily agree,” said Carrick.

“Ana saved your life,” said Kate.

I blushed.

“Absolutely,” said Grace.

“You did not like it better when I calmed down?” Christan asked his parents.

“I can handle a few suspensions,” Grace said. “What I can’t handle is someone putting their hands on my baby.”

“Christian, think about it this way,” said Elliot, “If some prick took Mia or Ana when they were fifteen years old, and did half of what she did to you, and told them that it was love, what would you do?”

“Kill them.”

“Right and if they said that they were going out partying, and if they hadn't done it, they could have become horrible people, would that change your mind?”

Christian snaked his arms around me, and kissed me on the forehead. “Absolutely not.”

“See,” he said. “Your harder on yourself than you are on other people. The fact is that she made you think you were a horrible person, and only she could love you. That’s abuse, plain and simple. We’ll shoot her tomorrow.”

Later that night, Christian and I were lying in bed. I had my hand on his chest, careful not to touch his scars. Christian kissed my hair. “Thank you,” he said.

“For what?” I said.

“My family knows everything, and I don’t feel like a freak,” he said. “I would never imagine telling my mom, my brother and sister what Elena did to me. My dad was not half bad.”

I smiled and tears filled my eyes.

“What?”

“You just said Elena did something to you. Your getting there.”

“All because of you,” he said kissing me. “Now go to sleep future Mrs. Grey. We have to set a date and find wedding planners right after breakfast.”

I rolled my eyes, when would he stop being controlling?

“Did you just roll your eyes at me?” he asked, with a playful glint in his eye.

“Oh God, Christian! It 3 in the morning.”

“Come here!”


	2. Life is Hell

It was a twenty minute drive from Grey Enterprises to John Flynn’s office. Taylor was taking me today because I really did not feel well. Since my birthday, I had been having pretty severe nightmares and had not gotten a wink of sleep in the last few days. Also, I seemed to be having symptoms of the flu. I had thrown up my breakfast twice, and I had an unending headache.

Ana thought that I was mad at her the first few days because I had not been affectionate with her, but then I came clean, and she made me call my doctor. My doctor had given me a pill for it, but it was not working. If the first few days were anything to judge by, being twenty-eight was going to suck.

“We are here, sir,” said Taylor.

I got out of the car and Taylor rolled away to go get lunch and he knew when to come back and get me. Walking into the building, I groaned under the fluorescent lights, which gave me a bitch of a headache. I went right by the receptionist and took the elevator to the fifth floor. I bypassed the waiting room and headed straight for Flynn’s office, swinging the door open with a bang. John looked up from his lunch, which looked like a chicken salad, water, and an apple.

“You're early,” he said.

I nodded and grunted as I slumped down on the couch.

“Oh dear, did someone break some rules and celebrate their birthday a little too roughly?” he asked, amused.

“They know about Elena,” I said, jumping right into it.

His smile died and his eyes got wide. “Who?”

“Everyone. Mom, Dad, Mia, Elliot, and Elliot’s girlfriend, Kate.”

“How did they find out?”

“Elana and Ana were fighting over me, and my mom overheard them. Mom kicked Elena out, then me and mom had the worst talk of my life. I told her how Elena seduced me when I was fifteen and we had a relationship until I was twenty-one.”

“How did she react?”

“She cried and she was mad as hell that I did not say anything to her when I was fifteen when it happened. We had a long talk about why she did not talk to her.”  
“Why didn’t you?”

I sighed, “Because how do you tell someone their best friend seduced you? She probably hates me.”

“Why would she hate you?”

“I should have said no. I should be what they expect from me.”

“What do they expect?” 

“Smart, successful, educated, funny, kind.”

“You are all those things.”

“Yeah, but I am also a fuck up.”

“How?”

“I drank, snuck out, got expelled from three schools. Elena fixed me.”

“So would you suggest the Elena method if a teenager was having disciplinary problems? If Taylor’s daughter, Sophie, got suspended would you sentence her to a weekend in your playroom?”

“What?! No!”

“Why not?”

“First of all, she is seven! Second of all, I pity the man who lays a finger on her when she is distressed-”

Flynn raised his eyebrow, and looked at me with a pointed stare.

“I didn’t want it,'' I whispered, suddenly recalling what happened that night when Elena seduced me. “I was tired and scared and I did not know what was going on. I did not fight back because I was too frightened.” I put my head down in my hands, as the wave of this reality hit me. Elena crossed a line, big time. That is why they want to punish her with jail, or hurting her car.

“They are trying to figure out how to hurt Elena and get away with it,” I said. You know sue her without it making the news that she did what she did to me. Kate has quite an imagination.” They think she raped me, I thought. “She raped me,” I whispered.

“How does that make you feel?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “I guess I am relieved that they do not think I am some sort of freak and want to disown me. All this time I have thought that I have been a real fucked up person, and she fixed me, but Ana is right, Elena destroyed me.

“Why did you think you were, to quote you, a ‘fucked up person’?”

I closed my eyes. “Because it worked. The sex, it provided the outlet that I needed to get my mind straight to behave. Okay, I get the age difference was kind of weird, but the truth is I was on the highway to hell before I met Elena. She taught me to channel my emotions.”

“Who told you that?”

“Elena.”

“When?”

“When I said I wanted out.”

“You told her that you wanted to walk away and she told you that you couldn’t?”

“She said that I needed her.”

“Do you think that you do?”

“I used to, before I met Ana.”

“Why?”

“Because I am unlovable,” I said softly.

“I see,” said John. “And what evidence do you have that you are unlovable?”

“My mom chose me over drugs, and did not protect me from her pimp.”

“Doesn’t that say more about her than you?”

“If I was lovable, wouldn’t she have gotten off drugs and taken care of me?”

“No. That’s not how it works. Addiction is a very powerful thing and it can destroy a person’s whole life. Your mother had an illness, and needed help. She did not get it and the illness killed her. That does not mean anything about you. Your worth is independent of that.”  
I sat back and thought about this. “So I felt worthless as a kid, and Elana picked up on this and turned me into her sex slave.”

“It’s possible.”

“And that is not okay?”

“It is completely unacceptable behavior.”

I nodded.

At the end of the session, I thanked John, and walked to the elevator. When I got back outside, Taylor opened my door.

“Back to the office, sir?” he asked.

“Actually, home. But stop by that deli on 5th on the way. I am suddenly starving and exhausted.”


	3. Rwanda

“And so our profits made from the oil productions in the middle east should be able to fuel 40% of our productions into the African agricultural projects,” said Stewart, head of my NGO, but he did not have the heart and only saw the dollar signs. I kept him around because so far he works hard enough to fuel his ego.

“Surely we can do better,” I said. “We fueled 60% last year.”

“Well with the Economy sir-”

“Bull shit! Our stocks have gone up 32% this year. Don’t blame the economy. Where is my money going, Stewart?!”

“We have many projects and for them to produce proper yield we have cut spending in some areas.”

“How much is a proper yield?”

“30% profit, sir.”

I gritted my teeth. I felt my hand shake, I was so mad. I took a deep breath and counted backwards from ten in french, because that was harder and took me longer. “So you're telling me, that because you want a 30% profit instead of a 15% profit which I expect you want to cut 60% of my NGO of giving clean water to kids in Africa.”

“It will raise our bottom line exponentially, sir,” he protested.

“Why are you worried about the bottom line? You only have one kid, and your salary pays for her college tuition. What? Do you need a fourth Mercedes roadster?! Did you want one in canary yellow?”

His shocked look on his face told me that he did not expect me to know the colors of his cars.

“Not that I care, but how much profits did we make from oil productions last year?”

“Around $20 billion, sir.”

“And you are saying we don’t have two billion to spare to fund my plans to feed the children. Ten percent? I am asking for ten percent? Christians give ten percent to their church, an invisible God who does not do anything to them. Why can we not give ten percent to starving kids?”

“Sir, that is a lot of money.”

“Well, it is my God-fucking money! Now get it done or I will find someone who will!” I yelled.

Everyone in the room flinched. I know I should not have raised my voice, and I never raise my voice, but I was tired of dealing with him. The board was fine with this, but my own employees wanted more money. God, they did not know who they were dealing with.

“Sir,” came a small voice, behind a laptop. I looked to see a small-framed African American woman with long black hair cascading to her shoulders. She wore purple glasses that hid her dark brown eyes. It took me a second to think of her name, she has been just the secretary taking notes. Smith, Michelle Smith.

“Yes, Michelle.”

“I would like to nominate a small country named Rwanda. It was an Belgium colony in the late 1800s and gained independence in 1962. It went through a series of civil war between two rival cultures, one master and dominant, the Hutus, and one submissive, the Tutsi. In 1994, the submissive rose up and tried to kill the dominant race. Many children from both sides are now facing much poverty, pain, and loss. To this day, they need plenty of financial support to survive.”

“How do you know about them, Michelle?”

“My mother, Ella, fled a Rwandan village with me in her arms. We are of Hutu descent, and two Tutus men killed my grandfather and my father.”

“I am so sorry,” I said, ignoring the similarities in our mothers’ names. “Where were you?”

“The genocides happened all over the place, but we were in a small village called Nyamata.”

“I am very sorry that this happened,” interjected Stewart, unsympathetically, “but we cannot rehabilitate an entire country.”

Michelle bowed her head, and continued typing, as if she considered the matter dropped.

“Oh no, my dear. I am the master here,” I thought. Turning, I glared at Stewart, and said, “Not with my money greasing our own pockets, we can’t. We can start small, in Nyamata.” I turned to Michelle. “Do you know what the city needs?”

“We have a small business town there, it is close to the airport, there is a central market, and two banks. But-”

“Yes. Michelle.”

“We need a school,” she said, quietly. “A place where children from both cultures can come and learn. With good teachers.”

“A school?!” scoffed Stewart.

“Sir,” came Payton, a young girl from across the table, “I disagree with Mr. Stewart and want to say that the tax break from funding another project in Africa would generate the funds to pay for it. However, I must confess that we don’t know anything about building a school. How many children are in the area?”

“The population is 35,000. It is a small village.”

“Okay, so it can be a small school,” she said, pacified. “Do they have the resources to provide for it?”

“We can provide for it. Fund everything from the building to the pencils they write with.”

“How?!” demanded Stewart.

“Our stocks have gone up 32%,” I said, glaring at him.

I looked to Michelle. “Would they accept our aid?”

“Yes,” she said, sheepishly. “I think so.”

I raised an eyebrow. “There is more to the story than you are letting on.”

“After the fighting stopped, my grandmother and my mother had been living in the US for three months, and did not want to return. However, two years ago, when I was married my mother returned to Uganda because it was her home. She met and fell in love with a man who was now a leader of the village. I speak to my step-father often, and he is most interested in how to heal the village, now town, but he needs help. I thought we, you, could help him.”

“So you already have a contact with someone on the possible project?”

“Yes, sir,” she said. “I made no promises, but I told him that I would ask you to consider Rwanda.”

I looked at Payton, she was already crunching numbers. She was on board, good. Glancing at Stewart, I saw him huffing, like he was getting ready to talk about how expensive the project would be. I shot him a glare how that would not end well for him.

“I think this is worth a shot,” I said. “Consider it as diversifying our interests. And since we will need the head of the project to be familiar with Rwandan culture, have contacts in Rwanda, and can ascertain what they will need, I will put Michelle in charge of the project.”

There were gasps and shocked faces from all around the room. Across the room, Michelle looked like she had just won the lottery or found out she was pregnant, I could not tell which. I gave her a reassuring nod. She could do this. She had dedication, drive, and knowledge. That is all you need. Well, that and luck, but I was plenty lucky.


	4. Less than Admirable

“Okay,” said Mia. “We have T-minus 36 days until the wedding so you have to make fast decisions. Can you do that?”

“Um,” I said.

“Oh for fuck sakes, Ana,” said Kate. “Do you trust us?”

“Okay. Yeah,” I said. Between Mia and Kate, I would look ravishing.

“Alright, said Kate. “First is the budget. Christian said we can spend seventy, but if we go a little over, he won’t kill us. So I want to push eighty.”

“Eighty thousand on a wedding. Are you crazy?” I asked shocked.

“Well, you are only getting married once,” she said haphazardly. Then she sobered and glared at me. “I mean it. If you break Christian’s heart, I will kill you.”

I laughed. “I would never hurt him, Mia.”

“He better not hurt her,” said Kate, coming to my defense. “Or it will be the last thing he ever does.”

“Guys! We love each other,” I said, exasperated. “Now come on. What are we going to do with an eighty thousand dollar budget?”

“First, we need the venue. Do you want to be married in Seattle?”

“Yes,” I said. Everyone is here in Seattle, except my family, Mom, Bob, and Ray, and there is no sense in everyone getting up and traveling somewhere.

“Oh but a destination wedding is so great,” said Kate.

“I think we are having a destination honeymoon,” I said. “Let’s stay local.”

“You want a church?”

I thought for a minute, but something about that seemed sacrilegious. “We are not really that religious. Could we book maybe a country club, overlooking the golf course and the water? That would be beautiful.” And so Christian.

“Yeah,” said Mia. “Our family are members of the Rainier club. Mom and I could book you a date.”

“Oh, they would do the decorating,” said Kate. “Ana, it would be so cute.”

“Christian will love it,” I said.

“Okay, next we need to figure out what type of style that you want to have at your wedding.”

“Um… Christian is maybe a formal classic style. So maybe white, grey, and black color scheme.”

“How formal,” giggled Kate.

“Yes. I agree,” said Mia. “Now can you and Christian plan a guest list to us in a week?”

“Yeah. I think so,” I said. I hoped that we kept this just friends and family. 

“Then,” said Mia, “we need an officiant, photographer, caterers, florists, DJ, cake, decorations, musicians, order your rings, order your dress and veil, everything.”

“Can we do it in a month?” I asked. “That sounds like a lot.”

“Well, the officiant is simple,” said Mia. “What are your ideas for a dress?”

“Something simple. Just a plain white dress, maybe an A-line, and what are you looking at me like that for?”

“This is your fucking wedding day!” said Kate. “You are not wearing a plain white dress!”

“I am sure we can order something designed if we can tell them what we want,” said Mia. “Stand up, Ana.”

I did as I was told. Christian was not only the bossy person in the family.

“What do you think?” said Mia. “Mermaid?”

“Yes, a mermaid would be nice, and lace,” said Kate.

“Off the shoulder,” said Mia.

“Buttons all the way down the back,” I added. They looked at me. “Hey, I want to be able to get out of it.”

“How should we do the hair?” asked Kate.

“Hmm. Your hair doesn’t curl well, does it, Ana?”

“No. Straight as a board. Maybe a braid?”

“Not for a wedding, Ana,” said Kate, exasperated.

“A bun!” cried Mia.

“Perfect,” said Kate. “Now we need a photographer.”

“Jose would know a good wedding photographer,” I said.

Mia glared at me while sipping her mimosa. It seems that Christian had mentioned Jose a couple of times to her in less than appealing light.

“He is a good friend,” I said, emphatically.

Mia raised an eyebrow and said nothing.

“How about we book a photographer through the wedding coordinator?” suggested Kate.

“That would be acceptable,” said Mia, taking a sip of her drink and never taking her eyes off of me.

I shrugged sheepishly and said, “I think Jose is good, and would know some professionals. I don't see why that is a crime?”

“And the fact that he has gotten drunk and tried to stick his tongue down your throat means what exactly?”

“Christian overreacted,” I said.

“To what?!” asked Kate.

“The night you met Elliot at the bar, Jose and I got drunk and he made a move on me. Christian flew off the handle.”

“If he hadn’t,” said Mia. “he could have raped you.”

“What?! NO! Don’t. He is not that type of person.”

“Christian said you were saying no, and he kept touching you.”

“I don’t see what this has anything to do with me getting married,” I said.

“Christian thinks he is a potential Elana.”

“What?” Jose? and Elena? On the same level. 

I got out my phone, and dialed Christian’s number.

“Hello,” said Christian on the second ring.

“Mia said you think Jose is like Elena?”

He growled, “When did she say that?”

“Just now,” I said.

“Put her on the phone.”

“Is it true?”

“Fuck Ana do what your told and put her on the phone!”

“No Christian! Is it true?”

He sighed. “I have a meeting in ten minutes, can we do this tonight?”

“You have ten minutes to talk to me.”

He sighed again. “I am trying to wrap my head around what Elena did to me. But yes, there are parts of Jose that resemble her, and I do not like your relationship with him.”

“What?! She had sex with a teenager, he got drunk and hit on me. How are they even in the same ballpark?!”

“I think his intentions towards you are less than admirable?”

“And when you met me? What were your intentions towards me?”

There was silence on the phone.

“I have to go,” he said, and the line went dead.


	5. Child Molesters and Perverts

When Ana came home, I tried to take the high road. “How was your day?” I asked.

“You know exactly how my day was,” she said, throwing her purse on the counter. “Now what the hell is your problem?”

I gritted my teeth. When she had a bee in her bonnet, she could not even be civil. “My problem,” I said, “was that you got drunk at a party and instead of being a gentleman this man was a perv and now he is invited to our wedding.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“Well, my problem is that a woman who could have been a great mentor and a friend to a boy who had already been abused, was a child molester and is not in jail because the kid thinks its his fault.”

“I do not want you around Jose.”

“Tough, he is not a child molester.”

“Damn it, Ana! I consented to what happened between me and Elena!” I yelled.

“Do you even understand what happened between you and Elena?!” 

“Yes!”

“Then explain it to me,” she said.

“Why?” I asked, shocked.

“I’m calling your bluff. Explain to me what Elena did to you, with you, for you?”

I swallowed. “I was angry, hurt, and confused, and she straightened me out,” I said on auto-pilot.

“No, walk me through it. Not in a nutshell. I want a play by play,” she said.

I stepped back. Was she serious? Turn the tables on her. “Well I want a play by play about Rodriguz,” I said.

“Fine,” she said.

Damn. Could I do this?

“I met Elena when my mom introduced us when I was eleven. She was in a bad marriage, but she and her husband were trying to make it work. I would go over to her house with my parents and my siblings, but never alone. She was always nice. When I was fifteen, I got in trouble at school and went over to her house to wash windows. She made me lemonade and kissed me, saying that she had a plan to help me in school, but it had to be our little secret. The next weekend I came over and we entered into a Dom/Sub contract.”

“Could you say no?” she asked.

I thought about it. Finally, I said, “I am not sure. She was my Dom.”

“Did you want out?”

“Sometimes, but she would convince me that I would revert back to my old behavior and that I needed to be in the relationship.”

“Christian that is a sign of abuse, making the victim think that they would be helpless without you and they can’t leave even if they want to.”

Was I abused? I shook my head. I needed another session with Flynn. “Alright, let me hear about Rodriguez.”

“There is nothing to tell. Met freshman year, became close friends, supported each other. Then there was that one night when we got drunk and he tried to kiss me, but he has been really apologetic since then. He has backed off since we got together. See no sex, no rape, no abuse, its all in your head.”

“Hmph.”

“Christian.”

I sighed. The guy clearly was not as annoying or possessive as Elena, I’ll give her that. Maybe if helped with the wedding it would send the message that Ana is taken.

“Ana it’s your wedding. If you want Rodrigezes opionion on photos then fine. I just don’t want to talk to the guy,” I said.

She smiled and kissed me. Then danced off to call Mia that we were using Rodrigeze’s opinion. I figured she was going to be gawked at by men all her life, as long as it was my ring on her finger, it shouldn’t matter.

I sat at the piano and played Cristofori's Dream by Lanz. I loved the haunted melody that filled the room and surrounded me, sending me off on some adventure through my past. Visions came through my head, my mother rocking me to sleep and singing, the pimp hitting me and cussing me, the cigar burns, then my true mother, Grace, holding me in her arms, brushing my hair, making me feel safe, Carrick teaching Elliot and I how to swim in our pool, then my first words when Mia came home.

“Christian, this is your little sister, Mia,” said my mother, showing me the baby in her arms.

“Mm-ee-aa,” I said, testing the word in my mouth.

My mother looked at me in shock. Tears welled up in her eyes, and I was worried I did something wrong. But, she smiled and kissed me on the nose. 

“Yes Christian, Mia,” she said.

I looked up from the piano to see Ana standing there. She had changed from her work clothes and she was wearing jean shorts and a large white T-shirt.

“What time did you get in?” I asked.

“About fifteen minutes ago,” she said sauntering over to the piano. The thought of those legs wrapped around me in the playroom, or just upstairs in my bed was tantalizing.

She slid beside me on the bench and put her head on my shoulder. “What song is that?”

“It’s a Lanz piece called ‘Christofori’s Dream’.”

“It’s sad,” she said.

“It sounds a little demented,” I admitted. “It makes me feel safe.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, the way the sound envelops the whole room, I feel like I am wrapped in the music and nothing can hurt me.”

“Nothing can hurt you,” she whispered, and kissed my cheek.

“You can hurt me. You and your photographer,” I said.

She leaned back, whether in anger that I brought it up or shock that I said that, I don’t know.

“Is that what this is about? You think I can fall to his advances?” she asked.

“He is less fucked up than me,” I whispered. There I said it, the reason for my jealousy. She is going to look around and meet someone with less baggage, no Elena, no past, no sadistic/dominant needs, and she is going to walk away, and why wouldn’t she?

“Christian, look at me,” said Ana.

I glanced at her, and her blue eyes were peering into my soul. “You are by far the most complicated person I have met. You can be the most smartest, cold-hearted son of a bitch in the room, and then the most caring and kind gentleman. You have a multi-million dollar company, and a playroom, and you are the master in both of them. I am learning, I am learning to deal with your past, and your moods, and your need for control, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. I don’t want Jose. I didn’t want Paul from Clayton’s. I certainly did not want Jack Hyde. I want you and all of your mercurial kinky fuckery.”

She got on my lap and kissed me hard on the lips. When we broke away, an idea popped in my mind, a mischievous grin spread across my mind.

“What?” she said, laughing.

“Want to have sex on a piano?”


	6. Bridesmaid Shopping

Christian POV

My dream morphed into a nightmare. 

“Mommy, look. I drew you a picture.”

“No, maggot,” she said, disinterested. 

The lock in the door turned. “Where are you, bitch?” yelled the mean man.

I ran to my room, away from the man and my mother. He would hit her, and then he would hit me. I did not want to get hit today, so I hid under the bed in my room. Suddenly, I saw his boots by his bed. He was done with mommy, and he was coming for me.

I woke with a start, sitting up straight in my bed. I glanced at the clock, and saw that it was noon. 

“What?” I thought. “I never sleep that late.”

I glanced at my phone and there were no notifications or texts. Then I saw a piece of paper folded up. I grabbed it and read it. 

“Bridesmaid shopping with Mia, sleep in. I love you, Ana.”

I sighed. My dreamcatcher went to shop with my sister, that is why I had a nightmare. I threw the note away and pulled out my phone and texted Ana.

“How is it coming?” I asked.

I got out of bed and realized it was Sunday, no Mrs. Jones, which meant that I had to fend for myself for breakfast or lunch, really. I pulled on some sweats and padded off to the kitchen. Opening the fridge, I saw a note on top of a dish covered in tinfoil. 

“Serve yourself, then heat in the microwave for three minutes, let the cheese bubble. A”

I smiled and set the dish on the counter. I severed myself, and popped it in the microwave. When it was done, I grabbed a spoon and started eating it at the island.

“Oh. My. God.” I thought, “Damn, that girl can cook.” I took another bite as the cheese melted on the sausage, and the bread gave it a soft chewy taste.

My phone buzzed, and I looked at it to see that it was from Elena.

I nearly choked on my food. “What the hell did she want?” I thought.

“Christian,” read the text, “we need to talk. I need to explain things. I miss you.”

I looked dumbly at the text, not doing anything, for a long time. What on earth could she say to me? Apologize for raping me? Explain what?

Finally, I just texted back, “I have nothing to say to you.”

I put my phone down and tried to enjoy my breakfast that Ana made for me. Ana, my beautiful girl, not my sub, not my dom, but my fiancé. Someone who was my equal, my partner. And she was out with my sister shopping for our wedding. That had such a nice ring to it.

My phone buzzed. “Christian, I miss our friendship.”

“Ana, Flynn, and my family all said you raped me. That is not much of a friendship.”

I was done with the wonderful casserole. I put the dish in the dishwasher, and grabbed my phone and wandered into my gym. I wandered if I needed to call Bastille and schedule a workout today. I looked at my phone and was about to call him, when I saw another text from Elena.

“Do you call it rape?”

I leaned against the wall, and thought for a minute. Well, Ana had called it rape or at least child molestation since she learned about it. Flynn was the same way. My mom and dad blamed themselves for what happened, saying I should not have been alone with Elena. Mia was hell bent on revenge, and Elliot, we did not talk about it.

But, Ana could see Elena as a rival and could be calling it rape to get me away from Elana. Also, the others were going off Ana’s reaction, and they really did not know the full story. Only Flynn knew all off my side, but he was being clinical about it. It was technically rape, but that did not mean she is evil, right.

“I don’t know what I call it. It was techniqally rape. I did not feel like I could say no.”

I went into the gym and hopped on the treadmill. Once I had warmed up, I cranked it up to my usual pace. I was going well when I got another text from Elena, but I ignored it while I finished my run. When my run was over, I got off the treadmill, and went into the kitchen for some water, and I glanced at the text.

“Its not rape when you have a contract. You were exploring your sexuality and I was teaching you.”  
I nearly choked on my water. Did she really think it was not rape? Or could she know that what we did was wrong and she was covering her ass?

I was about to reply when I got a text from Ana. It read, “Kate said red for the bridesmaid dresses.”

“Its your wedding, what do you want?” I replied.

I finally got the balls to respond to Elena. “You think that making me beg for sex and treating me like a little boy toy because you were unhappy in your marriage was the grown up thing to do?”

Ana responded. “I like champagne. It is subtle and it would give it an elegant feel.”

“Send me a picture,” I said, excited that she wants something at our wedding. She was kind of letting Mia and Kavanagh make all of the decisions. It would be nice if she put her foot down on a dress.

“Mia likes this one,” and sent me a picture of a bubble gum pink sweetheart dress that stops at the knees and has the breast bedazzled. Absolutely not. 

“No,” I texted.

“Ist that how I made you feel?” asked Elena.

“Kate likes this one,” she said and sent me a picture of a purple dress that had spaghetti straps that looked pretty, but at a closer look, I saw it was not a dress, but a romper. Not suitable for a wedding.

“Where is the champagne one?” I asked.

Finally, she sent me hers for consideration. It was a spaghetti strap, swooping neckline, that we could dress up with some elegant earrings.

“Show me the back,” I texted.

“Yes,” I texted Elena.

Ana sent a picture of the back which swooped down, but not too low, it was plenty modest, and the small spaghetti straps criss crossed. I see why Ana liked it, elegant and simple. It did not call attention to itself, but it was gorgeous.

“It's perfect,” I texted.

“I really like it,” she texted back.

“Don’t let them talk you out of it. That is the one.”

“I am sorry, Christian,” texted Elena. I did not respond.

“See you at home,” texted Ana.

“Okay, love you.”

“Love you too.”

“I love you Christian. I hope we can be friends,” texted Elena.

“This is not love. This is abuse.”


	7. Lovable

I was sitting in Flynn’s office. We were five minutes past the hour and he was just sitting there looking at me with his notebook in his hand pen at the ready. Neither of us had said anything yet, and I was getting ready to lose my mind.

“Are you going to say something?” I asked him.

“What would you like me to say?” he asked.

“Ask me how my damn week has been?”

“Okay, how has your damn week been?”

I groan, and throw my hands up. It is a really uncontrolled action, but I kind of let loose in here.

John chuckles.

“Nice to know I am amusing,” I said through my teeth.

“You seem very stressed, Christian,” he said.

“Yeah. You can say something like that.”

“What is bothering you?”

I breathed out. “Everything. I think Elena is going to ruin my wedding, and maybe my marriage.”

“Nothing has that much power unless you give it to them,” he said.

“Elena takes that kind of power.”

“Then take the power back,” he said calmly.

“How?”

“Well, first do you intend to invite her to the wedding?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“She is my mother's best friend.”

“Really? Are they speaking to each other after your birthday?”

I thought about it. My mom hardly mentions Elena now. “No, my mom does not talk to Elena anymore.”

“Why do you think that is?”

“Because she is pissed that Elena and me fucked.”

“Alright, if Elena was at the wedding do you think it would bring up a problem for your mom. Imagine if she had to watch you two dancing. How do you think that would make her feel?”

“Mom would probably be angry that Elena was touching me.”

“Why do you think that is?”

“Because she should never touch me,” I whispered.

John nodded. “That is right. We are all trying to teach you that Elena should never had taken advantage of you.”

“But I am too stupid to figure that out!” I said getting out of my chair.

“No,” said John calmly. “Most people who get into this situation did not realize what was even happening to them or that it was wrong. It is normal to go back to it because it is the first time you experience sex, and you probably enjoyed it without realizing that it was hurting you. You are not stupid.”

“So you are saying that I am the owner of a multi-billion dollar company and I let myself be raped for six years because what? I was horney?!”

“Christian,” said John, “my goal is for you to understand that you were mistreated by a sexual predator because you were a hurting, vulnerable child. Think about a dog that has been beaten and abandoned on the road. Then someone comes and gives it food and water. The dog thinks that it is being attacked so it fights back. It needs to be taught that not everyone is going to attack them, and what their original owner has been wrong.”

“Dogs don't have that type of thinking capacity,” I quipped.

“But you do,” he said. “Your mother treated you horribly, then you were taken to a loving family, you started lashing out because you were confused, and someone took advantage of you. We are trying to teach you that it was wrong.”

“Elena helped me!” I screamed.

“Why do you say that?” he asked quietly.

I went to the window that overlooked the Seattle skylight, and thought about flying away instead of answering this question. I said nothing and imagined that I was soaring with Ana. She was laughing and I could hear it in my cans. We could chase the dawn again instead of me being trapped here trying to come up with the answer to this question.

“Christian,” said John. “What are you thinking?”

“I am fifty shades of fucked up,” I whispered, staring out of the window looking at the sky, wishing that the statement wasn’t true. I just really did not want to feel fucked up today.

“Christian, come sit with me. Lets finish the session.”

I took a deep breath and turned away from the sky, who was right now my only comfort. There was no judgement from nature for an emotionless sex freak and that was why it was my solace.

“Take a seat, Christian,” John said.

I slumped back down. The fact that I uttered my mantra had seemed to drain me, like if I had a demon inside of me and I had let it out in some horrible exorcism.

“Christian,” said Flynn. “Is your mother an honest women?”

I blinked. “Grace?” I asked.

He nodded.

“Yes,” I said.

“Has she ever called you fucked up?”

“No.”

“What about broken?”

“No.”

“What about a disappointment?”

I thought a moment. When I was sneaking out in my teen years, she had chastised me before. “She has said she was disappointed in me,” I said.

“That’s different. Disappointed in you means that she had an expectation in your behavior and you did not meet it. A disappointment means that she found a flaw in your person that damaged your relationship.”

“I think Mia, Elliot, and I have all disappointed her more than once, but none of us are disappointments.”

He smiled. “I agree.”

“Now if you mother is an honest woman, but has never called you fucked up, broken, or a disappointment, then wouldn’t it follow that she simply does not see you as any of those things.”

“Ana called me fucked up when she left me,” I said, recalling that horrible night when I took it too far.

“Alright, does Ana strike you as a smart, sane woman?”

“Yes,” I said laughing.

“And didn’t she return to you and agree to marry you?”

“Yeah.”

“Then it would follow she has recanted that statement.”

“I wonder why,” I mused.

John rolled his eyes. “Because she thinks you're lovable, you idiot!”

I laughed and wondered if maybe he was right. Elena taught me sex, but Ana and my family might be teaching me love.


	8. Lawyer

I was waiting in the waiting room of the my lawyer’s office, Mr. Robert Hicks. Ana wanted to be here with me but she had to work, being Senior Editor and all. I hadn’t been waiting five minutes, but regardless, my leg had started to twitch. I purposefully did not eat breakfast because I knew I could not keep it down. What if they did not believe me? What if they wanted more physical evidence then I could provide? What if they believed me and ran to the tabloids? That thought made my head spin. What if I lose everything?

I was just about to get up and tell the man to forget it, when Bob came out of his office and motioned me in.

“Good Morning, Mr. Grey,” he said, with a beautiful British accent.

“Good Afternoon, Bob.”

“Is it afternoon so quickly?” He glanced at his watch. “Twelve on the dot. We are both right.”

I laughed. “Your accent got thicker. Have you gone home recently?”

“Why yes. My mum turned 80, the old broad. I took the wife and kids to see her for two weeks.”

“Congratulations, how are your parents?”

“Mum’s fine. Dad’s fine too. Just got a bad heart, but he can still garden so he’s happy.”

“Good to hear it.”

We sat down at his desk. My nerves were considerably less. Bob would be at least kind to me, if he can not help me.

“What can I do for you, Mr. Grey?”

I took a deep breath and decided not to beat around the bush but stick to the facts.

“My business partner, Elena,” I said.

“Ex business partner, as soon as the ink dries,” he said with a chuckle.

“Yes. There is more to the story that I did not tell you, and I need your legal advice on it.”

“I am all ears.”

“You will think less of me when I tell you,” I said.

“Sir, you are talking to the man who types up your non-disclosure agreements, and your Dom/Sub contracts, and then you grants to African charities. I have learned that you are a complicated man. I will probably be enlightened, but I highly doubt I will think less of you.”

I nodded, a little relived he already knew about my lifestyle and was finally willing to say something. That could make this easier. I spoke very slowly, watching Bon’s face, while saying, “About my Dom/Sub contracts, Elena Lincoln taught me about that. I was fifteen when I became her sub for six years. I think I consented to it, in fact, she told me I did. But I was wondering if the relationship was legal.”

Bob remained impassive while I told him my horrible secret. His eyes did not get wide, his mouth did not open in shock, in fact, he did not move at all.

“What age did you say again?” he finally asked.

“Fifteen.”

“Who have you told?” he asked.

“My family, a psychiatrist, and Ana.”

He nodded. “Out of curiosity, what did the psychiatrist suggest?”

“He suggested taking legal action if I could mentally handle it. I am worried if we go up against her in court, she will smear my name.”

“What do you mean?”

I took a deep breath. “She knows about everyone who has signed contracts and has been a sub. Also, she knows details about each relationship.”

Bob’s eyes widened again.

“Well, we should look at this in steps,” said Bob. “First, do we have a lawsuit? I daresay we do. Second, do we have any evidence?”

“I have destroyed any clothes, or pictures.”

“Have you talked with Elena about it in a public setting? Could anyone have overheard?”

“At my birthday party, Ana, who knew about it, got in a fight with Elena telling her to leave me alone. My mom walked in just when Elena said that I was better when I was with Elena. Our exact words were “I taught you how to love Christian” and i said, “You taught me how to fuck, Elena,”.”

“Did she deny it?”

“No.”

“Excellent.”

“Finally, is there any correspondences about where you would meet or collaborate your story?”

“I don’t have text that goes back to ninth grade, but I have emails from Elena from now, She is comparing herself to Ana. Sending me pictures of her playroom, trying to get me to come to bed with her.”

“Do you tell her to stop?”

“Either that or dont respond.”

“For now on tell her that you are taking legal action and it as against council to talk to her, then don’t respond.”

“Okay.”

“The next questions a little sensitive.”

“The rest of this hasn’t been sensitive?”

“If Elena is smart, she will get a good lawyer, and they will probably mount a defense that you want 100% of the partnership so you are making this up.”

“What?! Im gonna LOSE money if I do this!”

“I know, but that would be my defense.”

I moaned.

“It gets worse. As in the case of all rape cases, you will have to be examined by a court appointed psychiatrist.”

“That’s easy. I’ll have Dr. Flynn send you whatever you need.”

“No. You will need someone impartial recognized by the court, that the judge will accept. I can get you someone versed in Humanistic, Gestalt, Client-Centered, Cognitive-Behavioral, or Existential.”

“Why can’t I see Flynn?”

“Cause he can coach you?”

“How long does this last?”

“Until the verdict.”

Okay. I’m not gonna have a panic attack. I just can't see my shrink till we put Elena away. I am gonna be fine. I can still take Ana to the Red Room, and no I can’t cause we don’t do that anymore. Oh Fuck! I am gonna be fine!


	9. Lovable

I was sitting in Flynn’s office. We were five minutes past the hour and he was just sitting there looking at me with his notebook in his hand pen at the ready. Neither of us had said anything yet, and I was getting ready to lose my mind.

“Are you going to say something?” I asked him.

“What would you like me to say?” he asked.

“Ask me how my damn week has been?”

“Okay, how has your damn week been?”

I groan, and throw my hands up. It is a really uncontrolled action, but I kind of let loose in here.

John chuckles.

“Nice to know I am amusing,” I said through my teeth.

“You seem very stressed, Christian,” he said.

“Yeah. You can say something like that.”

“What is bothering you?”

I breathed out. “Everything. I think Elena is going to ruin my wedding, and maybe my marriage.”

“Nothing has that much power unless you give it to them,” he said.

“Elena takes that kind of power.”

“Then take the power back,” he said calmly.

“How?”

“Well, first do you intend to invite her to the wedding?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“She is my mother's best friend.”

“Really? Are they speaking to each other after your birthday?”

I thought about it. My mom hardly mentions Elena now. “No, my mom does not talk to Elena anymore.”

“Why do you think that is?”

“Because she is pissed that Elena and me fucked.”

“Alright, if Elena was at the wedding do you think it would bring up a problem for your mom. Imagine if she had to watch you two dancing. How do you think that would make her feel?”

“Mom would probably be angry that Elena was touching me.”

“Why do you think that is?”

“Because she should never touch me,” I whispered.

John nodded. “That is right. We are all trying to teach you that Elena should never had taken advantage of you.”

“But I am too stupid to figure that out!” I said getting out of my chair.

“No,” said John calmly. “Most people who get into this situation did not realize what was even happening to them or that it was wrong. It is normal to go back to it because it is the first time you experience sex, and you probably enjoyed it without realizing that it was hurting you. You are not stupid.”

“So you are saying that I am the owner of a multi-billion dollar company and I let myself be raped for six years because what? I was horney?!”

“Christian,” said John, “my goal is for you to understand that you were mistreated by a sexual predator because you were a hurting, vulnerable child. Think about a dog that has been beaten and abandoned on the road. Then someone comes and gives it food and water. The dog thinks that it is being attacked so it fights back. It needs to be taught that not everyone is going to attack them, and what their original owner has been wrong.”

“Dogs don't have that type of thinking capacity,” I quipped.

“But you do,” he said. “Your mother treated you horribly, then you were taken to a loving family, you started lashing out because you were confused, and someone took advantage of you. We are trying to teach you that it was wrong.”

“Elena helped me!” I screamed.

“Why do you say that?” he asked quietly.

I went to the window that overlooked the Seattle skylight, and thought about flying away instead of answering this question. I said nothing and imagined that I was soaring with Ana. She was laughing and I could hear it in my cans. We could chase the dawn again instead of me being trapped here trying to come up with the answer to this question.

“Christian,” said John. “What are you thinking?”

“I am fifty shades of fucked up,” I whispered, staring out of the window looking at the sky, wishing that the statement wasn’t true. I just really did not want to feel fucked up today.

“Christian, come sit with me. Lets finish the session.”

I took a deep breath and turned away from the sky, who was right now my only comfort. There was no judgement from nature for an emotionless sex freak and that was why it was my solace.

“Take a seat, Christian,” John said.

I slumped back down. The fact that I uttered my mantra had seemed to drain me, like if I had a demon inside of me and I had let it out in some horrible exorcism.

“Christian,” said Flynn. “Is your mother an honest women?”

I blinked. “Grace?” I asked.

He nodded.

“Yes,” I said.

“Has she ever called you fucked up?”

“No.”

“What about broken?”

“No.”

“What about a disappointment?”

I thought a moment. When I was sneaking out in my teen years, she had chastised me before. “She has said she was disappointed in me,” I said.

“That’s different. Disappointed in you means that she had an expectation in your behavior and you did not meet it. A disappointment means that she found a flaw in your person that damaged your relationship.”

“I think Mia, Elliot, and I have all disappointed her more than once, but none of us are disappointments.”

He smiled. “I agree.”

“Now if you mother is an honest woman, but has never called you fucked up, broken, or a disappointment, then wouldn’t it follow that she simply does not see you as any of those things.”

“Ana called me fucked up when she left me,” I said, recalling that horrible night when I took it too far.

“Alright, does Ana strike you as a smart, sane woman?”

“Yes,” I said laughing.

“And didn’t she return to you and agree to marry you?”

“Yeah.”

“Then it would follow she has recanted that statement.”

“I wonder why,” I mused.

John rolled his eyes. “Because she thinks you're lovable, you idiot!”

I laughed and wondered if maybe he was right. Elena taught me sex, but Ana and my family might be teaching me love.


	10. Lawyer

Authors Note: I had to do some research for this chapter about laws about statutes, how they do court appointed therapists, and crap. I decided to make it for the story, not realistic.

Saving a Life Chapter 10

Christian POV

I was waiting in the waiting room of my lawyer’s office, Mr. Robert Hicks. Ana wanted to be here with me but she had to work, being Senior Editor and all. I hadn’t been waiting five minutes, but regardless, my leg had started to twitch. I purposefully did not eat breakfast because I knew I could not keep it down. What if they did not believe me? What if they wanted more physical evidence then I could provide? What if they believed me and ran to the tabloids? That thought made my head spin. What if I lose everything?

I was just about to get up and tell the man to forget it, when Bob came out of his office and motioned me in.

“Good Morning, Mr. Grey,” he said, with a beautiful British accent.

“Good Afternoon, Bob.”

“Is it afternoon so quickly?” He glanced at his watch. “Twelve on the dot. We are both right.”

I laughed. “Your accent got thicker. Have you gone home recently?”

“Why yes. My mum turned 80, the old broad. I took the wife and kids to see her for two weeks.”

“Congratulations, how are your parents?”

“Mum’s fine. Dad’s fine too. Just got a bad heart, but he can still garden so he’s happy.”

“Good to hear it.”

We sat down at his desk. My nerves were considerably less. Bob would be at least kind to me, if he can not help me.

“What can I do for you, Mr. Grey?”

I took a deep breath and decided not to beat around the bush but stick to the facts.

“My business partner, Elena,” I said.

“Ex business partner, as soon as the ink dries,” he said with a chuckle.

“Yes. There is more to the story that I did not tell you, and I need your legal advice on it.”

“I am all ears.”

“You will think less of me when I tell you,” I said.

“Sir, you are talking to the man who types up your non-disclosure agreements, and your Dom/Sub contracts, and then you grants to African charities. I have learned that you are a complicated man. I will probably be enlightened, but I highly doubt I will think less of you.”

I nodded, a little relived he already knew about my lifestyle and was finally willing to say something. That could make this easier. I spoke very slowly, watching Bob’s face, while saying, “About my Dom/Sub contracts, Elena Lincoln taught me about that. I was fifteen when I became her sub for six years. I think I consented to it, in fact, she told me I did. But I was wondering if the relationship was legal.”

Bob remained impassive while I told him my horrible secret. His eyes did not get wide, his mouth did not open in shock, in fact, he did not move at all.

“What age did you say again?” he finally asked.

“Fifteen.”

“Who have you told?” he asked.

“My family, a psychiatrist, and Ana.”

He nodded. “Out of curiosity, what did the psychiatrist suggest?”

“He suggested taking legal action if I could mentally handle it. I am worried if we go up against her in court, she will smear my name.”

“What do you mean?”

I took a deep breath. “She knows about everyone who has signed contracts and has been a sub. Also, she knows details about each relationship.”

Bob’s eyes widened again.

“Well, we should look at this in steps,” said Bob. “First, do we have a lawsuit? I daresay we do. Second, do we have any evidence?”

“I have destroyed any clothes, or pictures.”

“Have you talked with Elena about it in a public setting? Could anyone have overheard?”

“At my birthday party, Ana, who knew about it, got in a fight with Elena telling her to leave me alone. My mom walked in just when Elena said that I was better when I was with Elena. Our exact words were “I taught you how to love Christian” and i said, “You taught me how to fuck, Elena,”.”

“Did she deny it?”

“No.”

“Excellent.”

“Finally, is there any correspondences about where you would meet or collaborate your story?”

“I don’t have text that goes back to ninth grade, but I have emails from Elena from now, She is comparing herself to Ana. Sending me pictures of her playroom, trying to get me to come to bed with her.”

“Do you tell her to stop?”

“Either that or dont respond.”

“For now on tell her that you are taking legal action and it as against council to talk to her, then don’t respond.”

“Okay.”

“The next questions a little sensitive.”

“The rest of this hasn’t been sensitive?”

“If Elena is smart, she will get a good lawyer, and they will probably mount a defense that you want 100% of the partnership so you are making this up.”

“What?! Im gonna LOSE money if I do this!”

“I know, but that would be my defense.”

I moaned.

“It gets worse. As in the case of all rape cases, you will have to be examined by a court appointed psychiatrist.”

“That’s easy. I’ll have Dr. Flynn send you whatever you need.”

“No. You will need someone impartial recognized by the court, that the judge will accept. I can get you someone versed in Humanistic, Gestalt, Client-Centered, Cognitive-Behavioral, or Existential.”

“Why can’t I see Flynn?”

“Cause he can coach you.”

“How long does this last?”

“Until the verdict.”

Okay. I’m not gonna have a panic attack. I just can't see my shrink till we put Elena away. I am gonna be fine. I can still take Ana to the Red Room, and no I can’t cause we don’t do that anymore. Oh Fuck! I am gonna be fine!


End file.
